disenchanted
by jenelin
Summary: A girl's dream...also reference to Gaiman's Snow, Glass, Apples


# [disenchanted]

## by jenelin

It is the same dream as always. I walk through a forest. It is large and green, and little creatures scurry away as I pass by. There are tiny cottages scattered throughout; one with a licorice path leading up to it, another with seven small wet shirts hanging from a rope hung between two trees. It is a fairy tale forest. I pause to pick a flower. It is white, and I can see myself reflected in its petals. I leave it where it is because it is so beautiful. A young man rides by me on a large white horse. His hat has a long red feather in it, and his smile as he flies by is charming. 

I run through the forest then, laughing because it is all so beautiful. There are birds before me, eating up a trail of bread crumbs. I shoo them away. 

I come across a woman. She seems tired, but she must have once been very beautiful. She is looking for a wild girl, her stepdaughter, with hair as black as coal and skin as white as snow. "Her lips will be as red as blood," the woman tells me, "for that is what she feasts on." I shiver at the thought, tell the woman that I have not seen her, and hurry on my way. 

The forest seems darker now. Things swoop through the night above me, and there is a chill in the air. A wolf is feasting on what looks like the remains of a young girl. A red cloak lies beside them; I take it and pull it close around me, for I am very cold. 

The charming young man I saw earlier is waiting beside a tree. He smiles at me, and I smile back. "My ladylove!" he exclaims. "I have found you!" He pulls me close and kisses me, and it seems that there are violins playing. His kiss becomes rougher; he is hurting me, and I try to scream, but I cannot. He laughs cruelly as he pulls away. There is a girl standing behind him now; he puts her on his horse, and they ride off together into the darkness of the forest, leaving me alone. Her lips are as red as blood. 

I run through the forest in fear. I hear bones crunching to my left and behind me there is soft, menacing growling. I quicken my pace. I stop to rest beside a small bush. There are fairies flying around. They are enchantingly beautiful. I try to get a closer look at one, and it bites my finger. I cry out and run away. The trees are closing in on me; I have to fight to get through them. 

Then there is a tiny open glade. There are hundreds of the beautiful white flowers I saw earlier. A small stream cuts through the space, glistening silver under the starlight. I fall down, exhausted, and cry. There is a swirl of soft fabric, and then a tall man is standing in front of me. He is thin and has skin that is almost paler than the moonlight shining down on us. I cannot see his eyes, but a faint flash, almost like a star, will sometimes appear where they would be. He holds a slender hand out to me, and I do not feel afraid any more. I lift my own hand to grasp his, and everything swirls around me. I try to reach him, but he is getting further away. I feel that if I could only touch his hand, he would tell me something important, or take me somewhere safe. But I cannot reach him, and I wake up. 

For a moment I imagine that I can see the pale man's face in the mirror by my bed. Then the dream fades away and I can remember only vague flashes of it during the day. The memory of it tugs at my mind all day; I remember the man and desire to know what he has to tell me. Life seems unreal; I long to dream the dream again. I know the terror it brings, but I live with the hope that I will reach the man someday. I always wake up from the dream exhausted; going through the actions of each day only heightens that feeling. I am very tired. 

I dream again. Running, always running through the terrors of that disenchanted fairy tale forest. The man appears; I strain to reach him. He is disappearing, but still I try, and finally, when he is but a speck on the horizon, I feel our fingers brush. Now I stand by him, and the forest is far away. I feel safe and content, and I am not tired. 

**You are feeling well?** he asks me in a voice like the shadows. 

"Very," I reply. The stars glint in his eyes, and he seems very sad. 

**My sister is waiting for you.**

We walk in silence and soon meet with a young girl. I know she is the man's sister. She is pale and dressed all in black. "Hello!" she says to me, with a friendly smile. "You finally made it." 

She holds her hand out to me. I seem to know what taking it will mean, but I am tired of life. I grasp her hand, and everything is soft and peaceful. 

I do not wake up.


End file.
